KAIETEUR AND RORAIMA 



241 



Apprehension also added its weight, 

 for the remaining provisions were suf- 

 ficient only to last us back to Saveritik, 

 should we turn back, and no food was 

 obtainable here. To go forward meant 

 we must continue westward until sup- 

 plies were found. 



But the morrow brought its cheer with 

 the discovery of a volunteer guide who 

 knew a way to Roraima shorter by two 

 days than the route known to geog- 

 raphers. 



With fresh courage we crossed the 

 Cotinga, a river of great beauty, as it 

 winds southward through the plains on 

 its way to the Branco, and worked our 

 way up a wide lateral valley toward 

 Mount Weitipu, which stands like a senti- 

 nel guarding the approach to Roraima 

 from the southeast. 



RORAIMA IS REACHED 



At last, in mid August, I reached 

 Roraima. From the camp on Erkui 

 Creek, on the west flank of Weitipu, we 

 proceeded to the Arabopo River, an upper 

 branch belonging to the Orinoco system, 

 climbed over an intervening plateau, 

 4,500 feet in altitude, and halted on its 

 farther border to gaze on the impressive 

 scene before us. Fifteen hundred feet 

 below spread a wide, undulating plain 

 that rolled up to the forested zone at the 

 foot of Roraima, only a few miles distant. 



The flat-topped mountain, which is nine 

 miles long and three miles wide, presented 

 us its southern point and rose like a vast 

 battlement constructed by titanic nature. 

 Upon its sheer walls 2,000 feet without a 

 break, that rise to a height of 8,600 feet, 

 gleamed silvery threads of waterfalls 

 that form the beginnings of streams en- 

 tering the ocean at far-distant points. 



On the east the waters flow into the 

 rivers of Guiana, southward they enter 

 the branches of the Amazon, while on the 

 southwest they run into the wide-circling 

 tributaries of the Orinoco system. Here, 

 on Roraima, these widely diverging 

 streams have their common origin. 



With our end almost attained, we 

 climbed down the valley and proceeded 

 toward the village of Kamaiwa-wong, 

 situated just south of the cleft between 

 Roraima and Kukenaam, a sister moun- 

 tain which is scarcely less impressive 

 than the more famous height. 



Here resided a numerous tribe of 

 Arecuna natives under the sway of a 

 powerful chief, whose "mission name" 

 was Jeremiah. But two trivial incidents 

 prevented our arrival at the village that 

 night. Had it been otherwise serious 

 trouble might have been encountered, al- 

 though not until a subsequent time did I 

 understand fully the critical nature of 

 our position. 



One circumstance was the hunt of a 

 huge ant-bear and the delay occasioned 

 by its killing. The bearers at the head 

 of the line halted and pointed out the 

 animal, as it shambled along from hillock 

 to hillock. 



As I crept up, gun in hand, the animal 

 continued to feed, ignorant of my pres- 

 ence ; whereupon I slipped the gun back 

 into its holster and took out my camera. 

 Setting it at twenty-five feet, I ap- 

 proached near enough to secure a much- 

 prized photograph before the creature 

 took alarm and bolted. It was run down 

 and shot, enabling us to obtain an exact 

 measurement of its length, which was six 

 feet and six inches. 



This animal (Myrmecophaga jubata) 

 is extraordinarily interesting, as it feeds 

 exclusively upon ants. It is covered with 

 coarse, wiry hair of dull fawn and black, 

 while its tail bears a heavy bush of longer 

 growth ; so that at rest the animal re- 

 sembles a heap of dead grass. The head 

 is slender and tapers gradually to a small 

 end, where the diminutive mouth opens 

 to allow a long, sticky tongue to be pro- 

 truded- 



The creature shambles along, from one 

 to another of the myriads of ant-nests 

 scattered over the savanna, tearing open 

 the earthy galleries with the huge re- 

 curved claws of the forefeet. When the 

 ants run out they adhere to the snaky 

 tongue, which darts here and there, col- 

 lecting a mouthful of the small creatures, 

 which must be eaten in enormous num- 

 bers in order to nourish the great bulk 

 of the ant-eater. 



The second chance factor was a drench- 

 ing downpour that overtook us when a 

 mile short of Kamaiwa-wong, and so I 

 decided to camp at once in a patch of 

 forest on the Kauwa Creek, at the very 

 foot of the great mountain. 



As the memory of that night returns I 



